


the adventures of bucky bear and stevie honey

by wearing_tearing



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5 Things, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Childhood Friends, Falling In Love, Libraries, M/M, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 23:16:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5983927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearing_tearing/pseuds/wearing_tearing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ouch.” Steve bats Bucky’s hand away, rubbing at his neck.</p><p>“Sorry, sorry,” Bucky apologizes, cheeks red and eyes round. “It’s the same mark.”</p><p>Steve nods, because it is. “Only soulmates have the same mark.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	the adventures of bucky bear and stevie honey

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted from [tumblr](http://hawkguyz.tumblr.com/post/139181733471/buckysteve-maybe-a-soulmate-au-paired-with)! anon asked for soulmate au and i paired it with 'back of the library'.

**one  
** **eight & seven**

 

“C’mon,” Steve mumbles under his breath, brows furrowed, his tongue peeking from between his teeth in concentration. He stretches his arm up, going on his tiptoes, fingers almost grazing the book he wants.

If he could only—

“I’ll get it,” says a boy from behind him, pushing Steve gently aside and grabbing the book. He offers it to Steve with a smile, two of his front teeth missing. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Steve says, taking the book and hugging it to his chest. “I could’ve grabbed it.”

“I know,” the boy says, sticking his hands into his pockets and shifting on his feet. “But my Ma always says to help someone if they look like they need it.”

Steve glares a little, but the boy just smiles back at him. He’s wearing a rad _Goonies_ shirt and red sneakers just like Steve’s own, and the longer Steve stares at him the bigger his smile gets.

“I’m James Buchanan Barnes,” he says, sticking out a hand. “And I’m seven years old.”

Steve blinks at the hand before tentatively shaking it. James’s palm is sticky and a little wet, but Steve doesn’t mind. “I’m Steve Rogers,” he answers, tilting his chin up. “And I’m _eight_ years old.”

“Now we’re friends,” James says, in the same tone of voice Steve’s Ma uses whenever Steve is supposed to stop arguing with her. “So you can call me Bucky.”

“That’s a weird name,” Steve blurts out before he can stop himself, and then quickly adds, “but I like it.”

“‘S better than _Jimmy_ ,” Bucky answers, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “That’s what my Aunt Rosie calls me and she smells like mothballs.”

“Yuck,” Steve gags, making Bucky laugh. Steve likes his laugh. It makes his stomach feel funny like he ate too much candy, but in a good way. “Want to read the book together?”

“Yeah!” Bucky grins, blue eyes lighting up. “We can go sit down by the real old books that smell good.”

Steve barely has time to stutter out an agreement before Bucky grabs his hand and tugs him along, leading him through the stacks until they reach their destination. Then, Bucky puts his hands on Steve’s shoulders and pushes him to the floor, sitting down beside him a second later, their backs resting against one of the shelves.

“What’s it about?” Bucky asks, peering over Steve’s shoulder, his face so close Steve—

“Oh,” Steve says dumbly, staring at a spot on Bucky’s neck, right under his ear. “ _Oh_.”

“Steve?” Bucky turns to him, frowning. “Is everything ok—,” Bucky stops talking when Steve touches the birthmark shaped like a star on his neck, eyes widening. “What are you—”

“Here,” Steve says, swallowing hard as he tilts his head to the side to show Bucky the exact same birthmark on his neck.

“Oh,” Bucky breathes out, and a second later Steve feels a finger poking him in the neck.

“Ouch.” Steve bats Bucky’s hand away, rubbing at his neck.

“Sorry, sorry,” Bucky apologizes, cheeks red and eyes round. “It’s the same mark.”

Steve nods, because it is. “Only soulmates have the same mark.”

“Soulmates,” Bucky repeats, and then beams, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulder. “I knew I liked you.”

Steve groans, shrugging Bucky off of him. “Shuddup.”

“That means you’re my _best_ friend now,” Bucky tells him. “My Ma says soulmates are someone important in your life and best friends are the most important.”

“My Ma married her soulmate,” Steve offers, and there’s a few seconds in which he and Bucky stare at each other before they say, “ _Gross_ ,” and shudder.

“Miss Honey told our class soulmates don’t hafta be married. They can just be friends.” Bucky scratches his head, messing up his hair. “She’s smart and a teacher so she must be right.”

Steve nods again, because that sounds about right. His Ma always said soulmates mean different things for different people, and to him and Bucky it can just mean friends. The _best of friends_.

“Want to read now?” Steve asks him, opening the book on the first page. “We can take turns.”

Bucky shakes his head, hair falling over his forehead. “I’m too slow, you can read.”

“I don’t mind slow.” Steve shrugs. “‘Sides, that way you can practice.” Bucky makes a face, looking none too happy about _practicing_ his reading. “ _Bucky_ ,” Steve insists, poking Bucky in the knee.

“Fine, fine,” Bucky sighs, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders again. “But you start.” 

 

**two  
** **fifteen & fourteen**

 

Bucky is acting strange, has been for a few days now. He’s nervous and jumpy and restless, but he absolutely refuses to acknowledge something is wrong whenever Steve asks him about it.

“Everything’s fine,” Bucky always says, glancing at Steve before lowering his gaze, his cheeks flushing red, his hand coming to that little spot behind his ear where their soulmark is.

He’s also being doing that a lot lately: blushing and touching his mark.

Steve blows out a breath, bangs falling into his eyes as he turns a page on the book he’s reading. He’s been at the library for a few hours now, all by himself, after he went over to Bucky’s to hang out and his mom told him Bucky wasn’t home.

It almost seems like Bucky is avoiding him.

Steve sets his jaw and closes his book with a snap, a little more violently than he meant to. He traces his finger lightly over the spine of the book, a silent apology. Just because he’s scared and mad at Bucky doesn’t mean he can take his anger out on the library. In fact, lately, these books have been better friends to him than his so-called best friend.

Pushing his chair back, Steve gets up and grabs his book, making his way through the shelves and finding his favorite little corner in the library, the one Bucky showed him the first time they met. He plops down on the floor, away from the sounds of people typing and walking around, secluded in between the stacks, the smell of old books surrounding him.

It’s comforting, the library.

Or at least it is until he hears the familiar stomp of feet coming his way and Bucky’s voice whispering, “Steve?”

Steve bites on the inside of his cheek and stays silent, eyes glued the book in front of him, even though he’s not reading the words anymore. His attention is focused on the sounds Bucky makes as he draws near: his footsteps, his voice when he calls Steve’s name, the change clinking in his pocket. He stays quiet and pretends to read, even when Bucky silently flops down by his side, their knees knocking together.

Steve doesn’t have to be Bucky’s soulmate to know he’s miserable. Being his best friend is enough to sense the cloud of sadness that’s hovering over Bucky’s head. That adds to Steve’s anger, because it sure as hell isn’t Steve who’s been avoiding Bucky and barely speaking to him and running away whenever he goes in for a hug.

Steve is about to rip Bucky a new one for being a lousy friend, but that involves turning around so he can actually stare at Bucky in the face. And when Steve does, he doesn’t like what he sees. Bucky’s hair is greasy and falling on his face — which doesn’t mean much because Bucky’s hair is usually like that every day —, the corner of his lips turned down, his flannel shirt wrinkled. But what really gets to Steve is Bucky’s eyes: red and swollen and like he’s been crying.

Just like that, the anger melts away to give place to concern.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, reaching one hand out to touch Bucky’s knee. “Bucky?”

Bucky sniffs, chin trembling as he looks down at his hands. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice hoarse.

“Gonna have to be more specific,” Steve answers, and then kind of wants to slap himself.

It makes Bucky laugh, though, a wet and humorless laugh. “I’ve been that much of a shitty friend, huh?”

“Kinda, yeah,” Steve says after a second of consideration, because if there’s one thing they never do is lie to each other. “But that doesn’t matter. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It does matter,” Bucky argues, looking at Steve straight in the eye for the first time in days. “I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“For what to happen?”

Bucky shakes his head, scrubbing a hand over his face. “For things to get like this,” he says, gesturing a hand between them. “I just needed sometime to figure some things out.”

“You could’ve said,” Steve tells him, a little hurt. “And what things? Is this about the concert? You’re fourteen, you can take care of yourself. And I’ll be there, your Ma shouldn’t worry.”

“It’s not about that,” Bucky replies, worrying at his bottom lip. “It’s about other things.”

“What things?” Steve frowns. “You’re passing all your classes.”

Bucky groans, closing his eyes and letting his head rest on the shelf. “It’s not about school.”

Steve gets a little distracted by the sight of their soulmark on Bucky’s neck, but quickly shakes himself. “Did Becca break one of your Ma’s vases and put the blame on you again?”

“No.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Bucky,” Steve says, soft and quiet. “You were crying. Whatever it is, it obviously matters a lot to you.”

Bucky gulps, shifting his gaze from Steve’s face to his hands again. “It’s nothing.”

“ _Bucky_.”

“You’re my best friend, you know that, right?”

Steve nods, chest tight. “I do know that. And right back at ya.”

“I know that when we found out we were soulmates we said...,” Bucky trails off, shoulders tense. “It was just that… Ugh, this is stupid.”

Steve panics a little so when Bucky makes to get up, Steve grabs his wrist and pulls him down at again. That means Bucky falls into him, his shoulder hitting Steve in the chest and sending them both sprawling to the side.

“Shit,” Steve hisses, pinned to the library floor by Bucky’s weight on top of him. His arms are awkwardly trapped between them, and he can feel one of Bucky’s knees digging into the inside of his thigh. “Are you okay?”

Bucky stares down at him, eyes so dark Steve can barely see the blue in them, his mouth pink and parted and shiny. Steve blinks, eyes on Bucky’s mouth and now acutely aware of the position they’re in and all of the points of contact between their bodies.

Bucky is _on top of him_ and he’s not moving.

In fact, Bucky seems to be leaning _in_ instead of _away_.

And he’s not stopping.

But Steve could swear _his_ heart stops when he feels the press of Bucky’s lips against his own, warm and a little chapped, just for a few seconds before Bucky pulls back again.

“Uh,” Steve says, surprised he’s even capable of saying anything at all.

That doesn’t seem to be what Bucky is waiting for, because his face falls and then turns tomato red, and he scrambles away from Steve so fast he knocks a few books off one of the shelves.

“I’m sorry, oh my god. I’m so sorry, Steve. I didn’t— I’m sorry.”

“What?” Steve asks, sitting up again, heart beating fast. “ _What_?”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says again, drawing his knees to his chest and curling into himself.

“Buck,” Steve whispers, crawling up to him and bracing both hands on Bucky’s knees. “Please look at me.”

Bucky does, looking scared and embarrassed and like he’s about to get his heart broken. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Steve tells him, thumb rubbing circles over Bucky’s skin, right over the rip in his jeans. “Is that why you— Was that what you had to figure out?”

Bucky takes a shaky breath and nods. “I know we said soulmates didn’t have to be like that, that we could just be friends, but…”

“We were kids,” Steve points out. “Being soulmates always means being friends when we’re just kids.”

“Best friends,” Bucky corrects him despite himself, making Steve’s lips twitch.

“Yeah, best friends.”

“I know some soulmates are that, forever,” Bucky murmurs. “But I don’t want to be just that with you.”

Steve’s breath hitches, butterflies in his stomach. If he’s being honest, it’s not what he wants either, hasn’t been for a while now.

“Did you know,” Steve starts, licking his lips, “that was my first kiss?”

Steve thinks it would be funny the way Bucky gapes at him if this was any other time, but as it is, he doesn’t.

“I’m your first,” Bucky says, and then smiles at himself, looking all kinds of smug.

Steve huffs, but he can’t help the way his cheeks flush pink. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I won’t,” Bucky promises, now serious. “You were my first kiss too.”

“I figured,” Steve says, because he’s pretty sure Bucky would come running to him the moment he smacked lips with someone.

“So,” Bucky drawls, looking at him expectantly.

“So.”

Bucky places his hands on top of Steve’s over his knees, his palms warm and sweaty. “What does this mean?”

 _Everything_ , Steve thinks, but instead he says, “It means we can give this a try.”

“Yes!” Bucky fistbumps the air, grinning brightly.

“ _And_ ,” Steve continues, “it means you can kiss me again.”

In between the stacks, Bucky leans in and does.

 

**three  
** **fifteen & fifteen**

 

“I’m going to fail.”

Steve rolls his eyes, turning a page of his history book. “No, you’re not.”

“I am,” Bucky whines, pushing his book off his lap and leaning against Steve’s side. “I’m going to fail and my parents will ground me and I won’t be able to go to your birthday party.”

“I’m not having a birthday party,” Steve points out, lips twitching up. But not for long, because Bucky pokes him in the ribs, making him yelp. “Hey!”

They both tense, waiting for the muffled sound of footsteps of one of the librarians coming to tell them to keep quiet. Steve is actually kind of surprised they haven’t been kicked out yet, but that might be because Mrs. Wyatt has known them since they were kids and has a soft spot for teenagers who prefer spending their time inside with books instead of outside _necking_.

Nevermind that Steve and Bucky usually find themselves with their books sprawled on the floor and their lips locked. But no one needs to know that.

“You might not have a party, but I have _plans_ ,” Bucky tells him, and when Steve looks at him he’s smirking, eyes bright and dangerous.

“Oh?” Steve asks, a little breathless.

“Yup. You’re turning sixteen, it’s a big deal.”

“Not really.” Steve shrugs. “‘S not like I’m getting a car.”

Bucky nods. “Kinda useless in the city, anyway. We could make out in it, though.”

Steve feels his cheeks flush, but doesn’t say anything to that. He and Bucky never had a hard time finding somewhere to spend some alone time together, not with his Ma’s working schedule the way it is.

“Are you gonna tell me about your plans?” Steve asks him.

“Nope,” Bucky says, smacking a quick kiss to Steve’s lips. “But they’re good, I promise.”

Steve hums, cupping Bucky’s cheek in one hand and bringing him in for another kiss. “Guess I’ll see.”

“Only the best for my best guy,” Bucky murmurs, batting his lashes.

Steve snorts, flicking Bucky on the nose. “Jerk.”

“Punk,” Bucky pouts, rubbing the tip of his nose. “I don’t deserve to be treated this way.”

“You’re right,” Steve agrees, fingers tangling into Bucky’s hair as he leans in and nuzzles his nose against Bucky’s cheek. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Yeah?”

Steve nods, leaning in so close he can feel Bucky’s breath on his lips, wet and smelling like mint. “But not here,” he says and then pulls back, laughing when Bucky groans and hits him in the shoulder.

“You’re so mean to me, _ugh_.”

“You love me,” Steve says it as a joke, but the underlying tone of his voice makes it clear he means it more than he’s willing to admit.

He knows Bucky gets it, though, because instead of making a joke back or grabbing his books and pretending he didn’t hear anything, he gives Steve a smile — a soft, warm, _loving_ smile, that reaches his eyes and makes them shine.

“I do, yeah,” Bucky says, voice low. “Kinda hard not to.”

Steve swallows, stomach flipping as he stares at Bucky, heart beating so fast he thinks it might burst out of his chest.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, hand sliding from Bucky’s hair so it rests on the side of Bucky’s neck, his thumb pressing lightly right under the star they share. “Kinda hard not to love you, too.”

Steve doesn’t know who moves first, doesn’t care. All that matters is Bucky’s lips on his as they kiss, slow and deep and sweet, pouring everything they feel for each other into it. They kiss for so long Steve is short of breath when they break apart, his cheeks pink and lips bitten red, eyes glassy and entire body flushed with warmth. Bucky looks about the same, his hair a mess from Steve’s fingers, chest rising and falling fast as he tries to catch his breath.

“Wow,” Bucky says, voice cracking.

It makes Steve laugh, low and breathless and so fucking happy he can’t help but kiss Bucky again. “Love you,” he says in between kisses, thumb still over their soulmark.

And Bucky cups Steve’s cheek with one hand, finger ghosting over Steve’s own soulmark and answers, “Love you, too.”

 

**four  
** **twenty & nineteen**

 

“I can’t believe I missed this stupid place.”

Steve takes a deep breath, lungs filled with the smell of old books. “I know. We’ve only been away for a few months.”

“Guess it’s kind of special, huh?”

Steve turns to Bucky, his back to one of the shelves. He doesn’t have to tilt his head to look at Bucky anymore, his grow spurt finally putting him a few inches above his boyfriend. “‘S where we met, after all.”

“Where we had our first kiss,” Bucky adds, hands finding Steve’s waist, fingers sneaking under his shirt to find warm skin.

“Where you told me you loved me for the first time,” Steve murmurs, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and tugging him close.

“Too bad we couldn’t have our _actual_ first time here,” Bucky mourns, lips turned down.

Steve can’t help but laugh at that, dropping his forehead on Bucky’s shoulder, trying to keep quiet. “Thank fuck for that, can you imagine?”

“Would’ve been a disaster,” Bucky muses, pressing his smile to the side of Steve’s neck, right over the star. “And it would’ve lasted all of ten seconds.”

“Six seconds more than our first time, then,” Steve teases, hissing through his teeth when Bucky bites him on the shoulder.

“Shuddup. Not my fault I was so turned on by you I came when you took my pants off.”

“I barely touched you.”

“You were already naked,” is all Bucky says, like that explains everything.

Steve shakes his head, pulling back a little so he can stare at Bucky. His hair is short, has been for a whole year, and while Steve misses having something more substantial to hold on to, he likes it like this.

“We got better at it,” Steve points out, because Bucky wasn’t the only one to embarrass himself that night.

“We got fucking _amazing_ at it.” Bucky preens, pressing closer to Steve. “We’re champions at sex.”

“We’ve had a lot of practice,” Steve concedes, nails scratching at Bucky’s scalp.

Bucky tilts his head into the touch, eyes half-lidded. “Know what we haven’t done yet?”

“I’m not wearing a butt plug all through Thanksgiving.”

“But you’re willing  to do it if it’s _not_ Thanksgiving?” Bucky perks up, grinning excitedly.

Steve presses his lips in a thin line, considering. “Only if I don’t have to leave the house. Or our place.”

“We’ll work up to it.”

Steve sighs, knowing he’s made his bed so he better start preparing himself. Pun not intended.

“But that wasn’t what I meant,” Bucky continues, hands sliding further up Steve’s shirt.

“What did you mean?” Steve asks, even though he thinks he shouldn’t. He can feel Bucky’s semi against his thigh, and judging by the way he’s pressing himself up against Steve, he’s about to ask Steve to do something about it.

“This is our spot,” Bucky says, mouthing at Steve’s pulse point, “but we’ve never had sex here.”

“And we’re not gonna,” Steve answers firmly, though he doesn’t push Bucky away.

“Why not?”

“It’s a public space,” Steve starts. “Someone could catch us.”

“Didn’t stop you from giving me hand jobs in the locker room when we were in school,” Bucky points out.

“We had a change of clothes in the locker room. _And_ showers.” Before Bucky can say anything to that, Steve adds, “I don’t want to have to explain to Mrs. Wyatt why there’s come on one of her books.”

Bucky stops sucking a mark against Steve’s collarbone at that, body going tense for a second before he groans and relaxes against Steve. “Thanks for that,” he says dryly, pulling back. “Now I’ll never get a hard on in the library ever again.”

Steve kisses Bucky’s cheek, and then leans in to whisper, “That’s too bad. Thought you could suck me off in the bathroom.”

Bucky looks at him, mouth parted and eyes dark. “Oh my god, I’m so in love with you.”

Steve laughs, shoulders shaking, but he doesn’t resist when Bucky pulls him by the hand to the nearest bathroom.

 

**five  
** **twenty-six & twenty-five**

 

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Steve snaps, harsher than he meant to be. He can feel sweat running down his spine and gathering on his temple, his shaking hands curled into fists inside his pockets.

“Oh, _sure_ ,” Bucky deadpans, giving Steve a once over. “Nothing’s wrong. You just look like you’re gonna have to sing in front of the entire school all over again.”

Steve grimaces, willing his mind away from those terrible memories of himself in high school. “I’m— It’s— I have a lot on my mind,” he tells Bucky, shoulders slumping. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

And it’s true. _Bucky_ isn’t the one who needs to be worried about this. You know, since _Bucky_ isn’t the one who has a little black box inside his pocket and _Bucky_ isn’t the one who’s about to _propose to his boyfriend_.

The plan has been on the works for months. Steve roped his and Bucky’s Mas into helping, as well as checking with Mrs. Wyatt that it was okay for him to use the library to finally pop the question he’s been dying to ask Bucky. It wasn’t until last week that everything fell into place, and now Steve finds himself walking to the front doors of the library, Bucky by his side, his heart beating so fast in his chest he feels like he might burst.

“Oh, I’m gonna worry.” Bucky snorts, hooking his arm through Steve’s and pushing the door open. He lowers his voice as he says, “At least until you stop looking like you’re about to throw up. Then I’m gonna tell you you shoulda told me what was botherin’ you so I could help.”

Steve looks at Bucky’s profile, taking in the sharp angle of his jaw covered with stubble, his pink lips, his long lashes casting shadows on his skin. His gaze moves to the pale line of Bucky’s neck, his collarbones, and then up to his hair curling just under his ear, their soulmark barely visible. Steve finds himself relaxing a little, heart slowing down, the butterflies in his stomach calming.

This is _Bucky_.

His _soulmate_.

The one person in the entire universe meant for him.

And not only do they love each other, but they’re _in love_ with each other, have been for over ten years now. They’ve been through so much since they were kids, and they’ve kept choosing each other, day after day after day.

It’s by reminding himself of that, as he stares at Bucky and they walk the familiar paths through shelves to their favorite spot, that Steve knows this is going to be okay. That no matter Bucky’s answer, they’ll be okay.

“You know, it’s kinda creepy when you stare at me like that.”

Steve blinks, cheeks heating up when Bucky smirks at him. “Shuddup.”

“I’m flattered,” Bucky says, letting go of Steve’s arm so he can rest his hands on Steve’s shoulders, stepping closer and placing a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “After all these years and you still get that dumb look on your face whenever you look at me.”

Steve takes his hands out of his pockets and wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist, holding on. “I’m in love with you,” is all he says, because that’s the only answer he has.

“I know,” Bucky answers, pressing his smile right over Steve’s soulmark, lips soft and a little wet. “I’m in love with you too.”

“That’s good.”

It certainly makes what Steve’s about to do next a lot easier, at least.

“I should think so.” Bucky laughs, breath ghosting over Steve’s skin, making his shiver.

Steve leans back, mouth brushing over Bucky’s cheek until it finds Bucky’s lips, catching them in a chaste kiss.

“There’s a reason I brought you here,” Steve says, heart speeding up a little.

“You sayin’ it wasn’t just ‘cause you wanted to make time between the stacks?” Bucky asks dryly, raising an eyebrow at Steve.

“Yes,” Steve sighs, and at the hopeful look on Bucky’s face he adds, “and no, I’m not going to propose library sex.”

He’s going to propose _other things_ , but Steve is not going to get ahead of himself.

Bucky pouts, and Steve is helpless but to duck his head and kiss him again. Bucky smiles against his mouth, their teeth clinking together, but is fast to kiss back, slow and tender and until they’re both breathless.

“What did you bring me here for, then?” Bucky asks, nuzzling their noses together.

Steve takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the scent of leather and coffee and _Bucky_. “Look behind you.”

Bucky blinks, surprised. He slips out of Steve’s arms and turns around, brows furrowed as he regards the shelves. “What am I looking— Oh.”

Steve swallows hard when Bucky picks up the book he hid in between two others, heart in his throat.

“ _The Adventures of Bucky Bear and_ …,” Bucky stops, laughs, his eyes shining when he looks up at Steve, “ _Stevie Honey_. Really?”

The flush covering Steve’s cheeks spreads down his neck and chest, turning his pale skin pink. They’re not big on endearments, but Bucky never fails to call Steve _‘Stevie honey_ ’ whenever he’s tired or sleepy, his voice thick and eyes lidded, hands heavy and clumsy as he pulls Steve over to him.

“I couldn’t think of anything else,” he murmurs, feeling like he’s on fire.

Bucky shakes his head. “It’s perfect. And you drew us, too.”

On the cover, right under the title, is one of Steve’s drawing of two stuffed bears. They’re wearing red and blue uniforms, an attempt at recreating the superhero clothes Bucky and Steve imagined for themselves when they were kids, and masks. They’re leaning against each other, arms thrown over shoulders, one star over their hearts.

“That’s not all,” Steve says, sticking his hands into his pockets again, knuckles brushing against the little black box he has in one of them.

“I didn’t think it was,” Bucky mutters, leaning against one of the shelves and opening the book. His breath hitches as he starts reading, and Steve also finds a little hard to breathe as Bucky turns the pages.

Steve illustrated a page for every important event in their lives: the day they met as kids, their first kiss, the first ‘ _I love you_ ’, their first anniversary, getting into college, both of them holding Becca’s child for the first time, moving in together... Every little moment that defined them as people and as a couple is there, telling the story of how they met and fell in love.

There are tears in Bucky’s eyes when he turns the last page, fingers trembling. “Steve, this is…”

“I’m in love with you,” Steve repeats, opening his hand and grabbing the little box he’s been carrying around with his for the past two months. “And I plan on feeling that way for the rest of my life.”

Bucky laughs, tears falling down his cheeks, hugging the book close to his chest when Steve gets down on one knee, right there in their favorite spot, surrounded by books and the smell of home.

“You’re my soulmate,” Steve keeps going, voice cracking as he fumbles the little box open, revealing the simple gold band inside, “and we made a choice about what that would mean to us. We chose to be together, to fight for each other, to stay together when everything seemed like it was going to fall apart.”

Bucky echoes the promise they made so long ago, “‘Til the end of the line, Stevie.”

“We fell in love so young, Bucky.” Steve shakes his head, grabbing Bucky’s hand and bringing it to his lips. “And we stayed in love. And every day that passes, you do something or say something that makes me fall in love with you all over again. I—,” Steve chokes up, his own face wet with tears as he gazes up at Bucky. “I’ll keep choosing you, _us_ , every day, Buck. Forever, if you’ll let me. So... Will you marry me?”

“Fuck.” Bucky falls  to his knees in front of Steve, fingers curling into Steve’s shirt and pulling him forward, their lips crashing together in a hard kiss. “Yes! Yes, yes. I’ll marry you,” Bucky murmurs into Steve’s mouth, laughing and crying as they kiss. “I love you so fuckin’ much. _Yes_.”

Steve kisses him back, deep and wet and pouring every ounce of joy he’s feeling into the kiss, his arms going around Bucky’s waist and pulling them flush together. He doesn’t care they’re both crying, that Bucky’s still holding the book and it’s digging into his stomach, that they’re in a public space and someone might find them at any minute.

“I love you,” Steve whispers, pressing kisses to Bucky’s mouth, his cheeks, his forehead, his eyes. “I love you. I love you.”

Bucky keeps laughing, eyes shining with tears and happiness and love, one of his hands coming up to cup Steve’s cheek. “Where’s my ring? I want everyone to know I’m marrying your dumb ass.”

Steve snorts, hands still a little shaky as he holds the little box between them. He grabs the ring and Bucky’s left hand, breath caught in his throat as he slowly slides the ring onto Bucky’s finger.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out, feeling a little lightheaded. “We’re getting married.”

“We are.” Bucky nods, beaming as he wipes away their happy tears. “Was that why you looked like you were gonna hurl on our way here?”

Steve groans, dropping his head on Bucky’s shoulder. “I was nervous.”

“Like I was ever gonna say no,” Bucky replies, placing a kiss to Steve’s soulmark.

Steve shrugs, helping Bucky up and crowding him against one of the shelves. “It’s good to know for sure,” he says, nuzzling their noses together, and then making a little pleased sound when Bucky starts pressing short sweet kisses to his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Bucky murmurs between kisses. “Hey, Steve.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, pulling them even close together, feeling Bucky’s own heartbeat against his chest.

“Best thing I ever did,” Bucky says as he rests their forehead together, voice low, “was choosing you.”


End file.
